Reaching Paradise
by JamesLuver
Summary: It promises to be the best year of their life.


**A/N:** Happy New Year, everyone. :)

Another fic based on a prompt over on OTP Prompts. I started this before we got concrete details about the CS, so it is not exactly canon compliant (though I did change Baby Bates' gender from girl to boy to make it fit better).

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own _Downton Abbey_.

* * *

 _Reaching Paradise_

"Are you certain that this will be all right?" Anna asked for the thousandth time as she stood in the doorway to their cottage, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

"Anna, I promise you, it's fine. Lord Grantham can't release me for the night, but I checked with Mrs. Hughes and she has no objections whatsoever."

"But what about Mr. Carson? It's an unorthodox arrangement, even for him."

"He didn't make too many complaints about a pregnant lady's maid. I'm sure he can cope with a baby in the house for one evening."

"He didn't need to complain. I know he wasn't entirely comfortable with the situation when I started to show. I think it was only Mrs. Hughes who kept him from saying anything. I'm sure if he had it his way I would have been whisked out of the house before anyone saw me."

"Then I will be sure to mention that I absolutely have to spend the evening with you, and I shall have to disappoint his lordship by not turning up if you can't' be with me. I'm sure the danger of his lordship without a valet will be enough for him to overcome his scruples."

"But what if he cries? And he'll need feeding and changing throughout the evening too."

"Then you'll slip away to one of the rooms. The others will be having too good a time to even notice."

"He might get tired. I won't leave him alone anywhere. He's too little."

John understood the sentiment entirely. At only a week old, Jack was the best Christmas present either of them had ever received. Blooming right in front of their eyes. John was still so completely in awe of him. He had lost count of the number of times that he had counted his fingers and toes, the fine hairs on his head, the delicate lashes. He was a work of art. Other men might well be baffled by his attitude towards his son, but they wouldn't understand. He was their little miracle, dreamed of on so many long, dark nights. The one blessing that he and Anna had always wanted in their life. And he was simply enchanting.

"If he wants to sleep, then we'll both go and sit somewhere with him," he murmured, crossing the room to slide his arms around her waist and pull her snug to him. "I quite like that idea. I'm not very social, after all."

Anna finally smiled at that, stretching up on her tiptoes to peck at his lips.

"You silly beggar," she said affectionately.

He took her smile as a victory, kissing her hair when she dropped back down onto her heels. They stood in the circle of one another's arms for a moment before a cry stirred them. Jack had woken from his nap, and it sounded like it was time to feed him once more. Anna had already started to unlace her dress, moving over to the bassinet to pick their son up. Jack's face was already bright red, his tiny hands balled into fists, but he quietened immediately when he latched onto Anna's breast. Anna winced—she still hadn't quite got used to the sensation of Jack's suckling—and sank down into his armchair.

"There you are, darling," she cooed. "All better now."

John stood and watched for a moment, entranced. Anna was so beautiful with their son, more beautiful than Madonna and child had ever been. And when Anna looked down into Jack's face, he had never seen her looking so alive. It made his heart swell to see her so happy. She had been put through so much in her life, and there had been so many things that he had failed to protect her from, but somehow all of their crippling heartbreak had been worth it to see Anna through the other side, glowing with the achievement of all of their dreams.

Or, almost all of them. But this would be their last New Year at Downton. Sometime soon they would be leaving the quaint little village behind forever to pursue the long-held dream of working together in their little hotel with their child with them. He could hardly wait until it was a reality.

Clearing his throat as he felt unbidden tears spring up behind his eyes, he said, "I'll just go and make sure that everything is loaded onto the pram. Wouldn't want to get up there and find that we'd missed something."

"All right," Anna murmured, not looking up.

Still feeling a little overwhelmed, John slipped out of the room to compose himself.

* * *

As seven o'clock neared, John found himself lovingly tucking his son into the pram outside the cottage door; he had been granted permission to walk down to the cottage to meet Anna before the dressing gong. The wind was cold, but Anna had made sure that she'd wrapped Jack up in several layers of clothing, and he himself had added a couple of extra blankets for good measure. All that could be seen of him were two little eyes and his sweet button nose. The woollen hat that Anna had knitted covered most of his head. There was certainly no possible way for him to catch a cold tonight.

Anna appeared moments later, ducking under the threshold as she pulled on her gloves.

"I thought I'd forgotten something," she gasped, moving to take his place behind the pram while he moved to lock up.

"Relax," he told her gently. "Everything is under control. We haven't forgotten anything. Jack will be treated like royalty tonight, mark my words."

Anna nodded, giving him a small smile.

The journey up to the house was made largely in silence. Anna pushed the pram, and John ambled slowly by her side, keeping his eyes peeled to the road for any invisible potholes that might upset it.

There was a part of him that was anxious, too, despite his reassurances to Anna. This would be the first time that they had presented Jack to anyone at Downton. Mrs. Hughes, Miss Baxter, and Lady Mary had met him before, but to everyone else he was new. Still to be fussed over. And he knew that he would be the most protective he had ever been, watching like a hawk for anyone mishandling him or, God forbid, looking down their noses at him. Jack was their perfect angel, and he would do everything in his power to protect him from the ugliness in the world. As he had been unable to do for his mother.

He shook the thought away; he didn't want to sour the evening when they were on the cusp of the most wonderful year that they had ever had. Instead, he concentrated on Anna's face, on her blissful expression. That was all that mattered. Anna was happy.

It was just starting to rain when they arrived. John flung the back door open and stepped inside to give Anna a hand up the step with the pram. Jack didn't stir even at being tilted, snuffling but never opening his eyes. Satisfied that he was all right for the moment, John set about unbuttoning his coat and hanging it up on the hooks by the door, taking Anna's from her when she shrugged it off. She shot him a shy smile as she handed him her hat, returning to the pram to peer in.

"Still out like a light," she announced. "I'm not quite sure how we're supposed to show him off when he's snugged up as tight as this."

"I doubt he'll be sleeping for long if Mrs. Patmore has anything to do about it," John replied, wincing as he heard a clatter from the kitchen and then the unmistakable shout of the little cook.

Footsteps sounded behind them, and they turned to find Mrs. Hughes exiting the servants' hall, a beaming smile on her face.

"I thought I heard your voices!" she said. "Come a way in. Everyone is so anxious to meet the little sir. They hear all the stories from Mr. Bates."

Anna cast him a humorous glance. "He never told me that."

Mrs. Hughes chuckled as John shuffled. "Oh, believe me, my girl, he can't stop talking about the bairn. Proud as punch, he is."

It was difficult to remain dignified when he was being teased so mercilessly, but John cleared his throat and leaned over the pram.

"Exaggeration," he muttered.

"It certainly is not," Mrs. Hughes huffed. "Just yesterday Mr. Barrow told you to stop harping on. Which I completely disagree with because I love nothing more than hearing about the little darling, but it can't be denied."

"Since Mr. Barrow likes nothing more than to tell me to stop harping on, that doesn't count as proof."

"All right, Mr. Bates, no need to get flustered," said Anna, the affection and amusement plain in her voice.

"I'm not flustered. I'm simply stating a fact."

Shaking her head, Mrs. Hughes said, "Bring him through. You can leave him in there for now, though I'm sure they'll all be clamouring for a hold later on when he comes out. What's he like with that?"

"We've not had any opportunity to find out yet," said Anna. "He doesn't mind being passed between the two of us, but I couldn't swear it for a stranger."

"Give him to Mr. Molesley first. He's a sweet, unassuming soul. He might feel settled with his innocence."

John supressed a smirk. It was hard to believe that the man who had once been a rival for Anna's affections—although, admittedly a defeated rival right from the start—would one day hold Anna's child in his arms.

They were met in the servants' hall by cheers and a round of applause, quickly shot down by Mrs. Hughes who told them all sharply that the baby was sleeping and that they shouldn't wake him. Not to be deterred, the others pushed past her for a better look at the child who had dominated conversation downstairs since his birth. Anna laughed, looking prouder than he had ever seen her.

"Let's have a look, then!" said Daisy eagerly. "I've never seen a baby this little before!"

John placed his hand on Anna's shoulder as she swung the pram around so that the younger woman could see better.

Daisy sighed. "He looks like a little John, an' all."

"I think he'll be a Jack more than a John, but thank you," said Anna. "We think it suits him just fine."

John William Bates. A proud name, a strong name, as Anna liked to say. Kings had grown up with the name William and had managed the country with an iron fist. Dear William, the sweetest boy under Downton's roof, had been at the forefront of their memories. And there had been no better choice for his given name in Anna's mind. John. After her own darling, as she'd said when she'd cradled her son in the first minutes after his birth. The gentlest, most honourable man she had ever known. A fierce warrior, her handsome protector. Her everything. If he had had his own way, their Jack would have had a different name, because he didn't think he was worthy of the honour, but Anna would hear nothing of it. She had given birth, and she would jolly well have the last say. And he was a weak, weak man when it came to accommodating her. They had compromised with Jack so that they could all differentiate between father and son. Either way, he was so precious to them. He had come into the world after so much heartbreak and pain, and now he promised to heal them completely. For good.

"Oh, Anna, Mr. Bates, he's beautiful," Daisy cooed.

"We like to think so," Anna agreed with a beaming smile as she glanced up at John. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. They rarely allowed themselves overt displays of affection when they were surrounded by the other servants, but he thought that he could get away with it tonight, when they were both proud parents showing off their son for the very first time. In any case, no one else seemed to notice; they had all formed a line behind Daisy and were currently trying to crane their necks to see the baby for themselves. John doubted that they would even notice if he and Anna starting dancing on the table.

"Come on, Daisy, shove over," grumbled Mrs. Patmore, who had emerged from the kitchen, elbowing the younger woman in the back.

Daisy huffed a little but acquiesced her poll-position for her superior, standing a little to the side and glowering that her time had been cut so short while Mrs. Patmore bustled up instead. The cook inspected Jack for several long moments before straightening up. Her eyes were suspiciously wet.

"Oh, Anna, Mr. Bates, he's a lovely little fella. He's got good genes, I see."

"All from his mother," said John, giving Anna's hand another squeeze. She turned to give him an admonishing look, but a whimper from the swaddle of blankets meant that there was no time for her to scold him. His boy had good timing. Evidently Mrs. Patmore's loud voice had stirred him from his slumber.

"He's waking?" Daisy asked eagerly.

"He is," Anna confirmed, and the other servants stepped back a little to allow her room to bend down into the pram. Gently, she looped her arms around their son and brought him out into the open. John stepped behind her and laid his hand on her shoulder as they stood united in front of the servants, the little cub, the fearsome lioness, and the protective bear. Their little tribe.

At the better view that this new position afforded, a chorus of _awws_ rang out. Jack squirmed, flailing his little arms about as he wriggled. Even at a week old he was full of energy. No doubt he would cause them a thousand problems in the future, and they would relish them all after the heartache they had gone through to get him.

Sleepy blue eyes blinked open, the exact mirror of Anna's. Doctor Clarkson had warned them that they might change colour in due course, but the tiny bit of hair on his head was fine, and John hoped that those features wouldn't change.

"Can we hold him?" Daisy pressed. "I've never held a baby before! It would be like magic!"

"You can, if you'd like," Anna told her.

"But be very careful of the wee thing," said Mrs. Hughes, with enough authority to make Daisy shrink back a little. "You've got to hold him a certain way so you don't hurt him."

"I'll show you, don't worry," said Anna with a gentle smile. "I can't promise that he'll not cry, but we can give it a go."

"Just for practice," said Daisy, sneaking a look at Andy, who wasn't doing a very good job of hiding his adoring look.

Anna guided the young assistant cook over to her chair.

"Hold your arms out like a cradle," she said. "I'll pass Jack into them. Make sure you support his head."

Now Daisy looked a little frightened at the idea of handling such responsibility, but Anna gave her an encouraging smile and guided her through the process. Soon the sacred transfer had been completed, and little Jack Bates sat in an unfamiliar pair of arms for the first time. He was taking to it rather well; so far, he had only whimpered in protest.

"I think he likes you," Anna told Daisy with a smile.

The younger woman beamed at her. "Do you think?"

"I do. You're a natural."

"I don't know about that, but it is quite fun." She gazed wistfully into the little face below her. "He's ever so cute."

"He's going to be a handsome lad when he gets older," Mrs. Patmore agreed from Daisy's elbow. "Look at those cheeks. A little cherub if I ever saw one."

Even Thomas had had the courtesy to stub out his cigarette when they had entered the servants' hall, evidently aware that the baby might not like the smell of the smoke. Now, he glanced up from the paper that he had been pursuing, giving Jack a cursory glance.

"Looks like Mr. Bates," he grunted. "Poor bugger."

John was likely to agree with the under butler—out of the two of them, he would much have preferred the baby to take after his wife. Although Jack had her eyes and hair, he could definitely see the way that his son resembled him.

But several voices piped up to shout Thomas' comment down, Mrs. Patmore's the loudest amongst them.

"There isn't anything wrong with that!" the little cook said indignantly. "Mr. Bates is a very handsome man. And little Jack is named after him, it stands to reason that he would take after him that way too."

"The bairn's beautiful," Mrs. Hughes agreed. "Honestly, Mr. Barrow."

"He's gorgeous," Mr. Molelsey agreed. Then, evidently realising that he probably sounded very unmanly, he pinked and muttered something about just appreciating God's work. It didn't seem to have bothered Miss Baxter in the slightest; her eyes glowed as she glanced at him. John thought there might very well be another married lady's maid sitting in the servants' hall very soon. That was if Mr. Molesley ever pulled his courage together. John tried to control his smile. The poor bloke deserved some happiness, but he was even worse than he had been at grabbing the chance when it came his way.

When Daisy had had her fill, Mrs. Patmore swooped in and took Jack off of her hands. He gave a squawk at the stronger embrace that the cook had, but he settled against her bosom happily enough, and she cooed and fawned over every detail of his person, from his tiny feet to the slope of his nose. Pride swelled within him. His son deserved all the praise he was getting. So did Anna, for that matter. She was the one who had done all the hard work to get their boy to them. And their son would be a fighter just like she was. He could feel it in his bones.

Mr. Carson's booming voice broke through the bubble that had surrounded the servants' hall since Jack had been presented. He stood in the doorway with those great bushy eyebrows lowered in a frown, his hands stiffly behind his back.

"I'm going to ring the gong," he said. "What's going on in here?"

"Anna's brought the baby!" Daisy informed him excitedly.

"Ah, yes, I'd forgotten about that." Mr. Carson shifted uncomfortably. John had never seen him as a great lover of children, though he knew that he'd had particular soft spots for Lady Mary and Miss Sybbie. Although having the child of a servant at the table was undoubtedly different from having the child of his employer toddling around. Mr. Carson liked order, and Jack was definitely a disruption of that.

"Well, come and have a look," Mrs. Hughes encouraged him. "He won't bite, you know. He hasn't got any teeth yet, for one thing."

"You're welcome to hold him if you'd like," Anna added. John noticed that she was fiddling with her wedding ring, a sure sign of her anxiousness. He supposed that in some respects Mr. Carson was almost like a father figure to her. Indeed, she had spent so much of her life working at Downton and under Mr. Carson's command. At this point, his approval was probably a need.

"Perhaps I will later," he murmured, peering tentatively over Mrs. Patmore's shoulder. "He's certainly a stout little thing, isn't he?"

"Takes after his father there too," Thomas quipped, but for once there was no real malice in his tone.

"Nothing wrong with a healthy appetite, especially for a young boy," Mrs. Patmore said huffily. John kept his features schooled even as he wanted to laugh. They had always assumed that Mrs. Hughes would be fond of their child given her relationship with Anna, but it seemed now that he had underestimated the cook's strong feelings towards their boy. He'd seen her slipping extra portions to Anna as her pregnancy progressed, and now she looked like a fierce little guard dog as she puffed out her chest.

"Enough of that," Mr. Carson grumbled. "Everyone, get ready to be called."

With that, he moved out of the room. Mrs. Hughes rolled her eyes affectionately and followed him. This gave Miss Baxter the opportunity to sidle up beside the group, her smile soft and pleased as she too looked over Mrs. Patmore's shoulders.

"He's grown since I last saw him," she said. "The week has flown by."

"It has for us too," said Anna.

A week of no sleep and tears on both Anna and Jack's parts as emotions ran high and they all adjusted to this strange new life. Just thinking about it exhausted John all over again. The most gloriously tiring week of his entire life, ahead even of the first week they had spent in their cottage as man and wife. He had to hide his smile at the thought, in case anyone else could read the decidedly naughty turn of his thoughts. Instead he focused on Anna's beaming face as she got up to join the other women, unable to tear herself away from her baby for long, and John was loathe to tear himself away from the scene when his lordship's bell tolled for him. Thankfully, his lordship was sympathetic to his plight, and after a quick change in which he was bombarded with questions about the health of his son, he was finally released to return to his family. He was glad in some respects that his career in service was coming to an end. He had enjoyed his years at Downton immensely, but there could be no job in the world that would be good enough to keep him away from Anna and Jack. At least when they were their own bosses they would have the power to dictate their own hours. Once they had settled in properly, John was looking forward to spending some quality evenings with his family.

It couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

The rest of the evening passed in relative silence. Anna pinked a little when Jack began to wail, knowing that he needed to be changed, but the others only laughed, and John guided her out of the hall and upstairs to the nursery which had kindly been donated to them for this one evening. The rest of the time Jack was the image of an angel.

Daisy was given charge of him while they all ate, a task she delighted in given the way that she refused to put him down for even a second. After dinner, some of the servants began a lively game of cards. Anna watched longingly.

"Go and have fun," John encouraged her softly.

"What about Jack?"

"What about him? I think I'm more than capable of looking after him while you have a game. We need some man to man time every so often, you know."

"Is that so? I see how this is. I'm going to be completely outnumbered in the house by two strong men."

John snorted. "More like the two of you will use all of your cunning to team up and get me to do something that I am more than sceptical about."

"I can't wait," she said, grinning. "Here, take him."

The sacred change was made with ease now that they'd had ample time to practice it. Jack's head was nestled in the crook of his arm in no time at all, and once Anna had feathered a kiss onto son's downy hair and husband's cheek respectively, she went to join Miss Baxter and Mr. Molesley, the latter who seemed so flustered by the former's presence that he couldn't seem to make one good move.

John pretended to keep one eye on the game, but in reality he was hypnotised by his son. His son. If he had been told when he had first stepped inside Downton's hallowed halls that he would have a son by the end of it, he would have thought them completely mad. And yet here he was, holding his world in his arms, his one chance of immortality. And it was all thanks to the woman he called his wife. What would he ever have done without her? He hadn't changed his opinion of himself in the years that had passed. He could not view himself kindly. Alone, he was nothing. But with Anna he had a chance to be something more, and he would not let his son down as his own father had let him down. And Anna would make sure he always fulfilled his potential.

"Your mummy is an amazing woman," he whispered to his son. "You'll see that for yourself when you grow up. She's the most wonderful person in this whole world, and we are both so lucky to have her. We've got to do our best for her and look after her, even though she doesn't need it. It's our duty as Bates men. And she'll roll her eyes at us and call us silly beggars, but she'll love us fiercely for it. And I tell you this now, nothing on earth will ever come close to the feeling that being loved by her brings. First-hand experience, son."

He brought Jack closer to his face, inhaling deeply for a moment before feathering a kiss to the round, baby-soft cheek. Jack remained oblivious.

"Now there's a sight for sore eyes," came a voice from behind him as Mrs. Hughes re-entered the room. John turned his head slightly, proud and unashamed to be caught cradling his son in his arms and whispering silly nonsense to him. The housekeeper took the seat on his right, brushing her fingertips over Jack's downy hair as she did so.

"We were just watching the game," he told her.

"I'm not sure Jack is doing a very good job of that."

It was true: Jack's eyelids had drooped. John smiled. There would be plenty of time for all that later. When his boy might want to play football or cricket. His smile faded a little. He wouldn't be able to play with him in the way that Jack might want, but he would try his damnedest to be everything his son needed him to be. He could teach him the rules of the games, and hopefully bowl the ball for Jack to bat. It wouldn't be perfect, but they could manage. He hoped they could, anyway. The last thing he wanted to be was a disappointment to their boy. He wasn't even sure a girl would have been easier in that respect; if she inherited her mother's innate, beautiful strong will then there would be no stopping her roughhousing along with the rest of the boys.

But they were worries for another time. And hopes for the future, too.

As if cementing his thoughts, Mrs. Hughes said, "I really am so happy for you, Mr. Bates. I know I said it when little Jack was first born, but it feels appropriate now. You and Anna have been through so much, and to see you now with the bairn is good for the soul."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes," he said softly. "It means a great deal to hear that from you."

She patted his arm and reached across for the newspaper that Thomas had abandoned earlier. No more words were exchanged. They didn't need to be. He knew that Mrs. Hughes had the biggest soft spot for Anna, who she had watched blossom from a young girl to a woman and mother, but he could acknowledge that on some level she had grown rather fond of him as well, as he had of her. They wouldn't be around Downton for much longer, but Jack would always know that he had a family up at the abbey that he could rely on no matter what. With Jack's milky, baby scent filling his head, he went back to watching his wife have fun while his son dozed on and the rest of the household got absorbed in their own little bubbles.

* * *

Anna dropped into the seat beside him a while later when the game was finished, her eyes dancing. It did his old heart good to see her so happy. Leaning towards her a little to receive another chaste kiss to the cheek, he resisted the urge to turn his head and feel her smile upon his mouth.

"You enjoyed that," he said.

"I did. Even if Thomas cheated."

"Leopards can't change all of their spots."

"Mr. Bates!" she giggled. "You are a cheeky beggar. Speaking of which, how's our boy?"

"Good as gold. He fell asleep not too long ago."

As if he subconsciously knew that he was being talked about, Jack's mouth twitched, and he reached out a lightly fisted hand. Anna caught hold of it, smoothing her thumb over it.

"He's charming," Mrs. Hughes piped up; John had almost forgotten that she was there. "I'd wager that he's going to be the scholarly type with how quiet he is."

"You should hear him in the middle of the night," Anna quipped. "He's enough to wake the neighbours. Now, do you mind if I'm excused? I don't want the noise of the party to wake him up, and it's starting to get close to midnight. Will it be all right? We'll leave as soon as his lordship retires, but I don't want to disturb Jack's sleep."

"Of course it's all right," said Mrs. Hughes. "Go on up there now."

Anna took Jack back into her arms, and John stood and helped her to her feet while her arms were so occupied. She cast him a soft smile. He didn't think that they would expect him to stay while his wife and son were upstairs, but to avoid any doubt he reached for his cane.

"I'll go with them," he said.

"Of course you should," said Mrs. Hughes. "Go and be with your family, Mr. Bates. See the New Year in with them. His lordship won't be retiring until at least half past twelve."

Being with his family. Even after a week to get used to the notion hearing the words still sounded strange. Dream-like.

But it was real, and he would never let go of it.

Murmuring his thanks, he followed Anna out of the servants' hall, keeping his left arm at her lower back as a protective aid. Anna cradled their baby impossibly gently as they made the long trek up the flights of stairs. There was an ease and a surety that surrounded her, one that had been dimmed by the traumas that she had been forced to live through. Now she was vibrant once more. Back to life. Jack was the final piece that she had needed to feel whole again. If John was grateful to their son for everything, it was that above all.

The nursery was in darkness when they arrived, and John busied himself with flicking on the light while Anna ventured further into the room. It was a little strange to think of a child growing up in this kind of environment, being passed off to Nanny every day and barely seen at all. The upper classes might be more privileged and have a better chance in the world, but John was glad for his station if it meant that he could spend time with his boy in a way that the upper classes rarely could.

Anna had settled Jack into his bassinet by now, and sighed as she rolled her shoulders. John limped across the room to her side, immediately reaching out to knead the muscles around her shoulder blades.

"God, that feels like heaven," she muttered, wilting against him. He chuckled lowly at the look of intense bliss on her face, nuzzling into her neck.

"Anything for you, darling. If we were at home I'd be able to give you a proper massage."

"Don't say things like that. It'll only make me resentful that we have to be here instead of at home."

"You've enjoyed yourself really. You used to love the bustle of the house."

Or, at least she had at one time. Her attitude had rather changed on crowded vicinities from when he had first met her.

Shaking his head clear of those dark thoughts, he wound his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him. She settled her head against his chest, a little half-smile on her face.

"I do like that it's just the three of us for this," she admitted. "It's fitting."

"Even if this little fella is just going to sleep through the whole thing," said John. Together, they turned in the direction of the bassinet, where Jack's sleep-snuffles were the only sounds that could be heard. "Out like a light, just like his mother."

Anna smacked his arm good-naturedly, ducking out of his embrace to inspect their surroundings more closely. It wasn't something that they had taken the opportunity to do yet, with Jack's fussing being their priority. But now that they were alone on the corridor with no danger of being disturbed, John felt himself relax. Shrugging off his jacket and laying it across one of the settees, he thrust his hands into his pockets and observed his wife. She was busy running her hands across the luxurious linens. She was not a nosy person by nature, but evidently the temptation and curiosity had got the better of her.

"When you look at all this around us, do you ever wonder if we can give Jack the life that we want to give him?" Her voice was thoughtful as she picked up one of Master George's toys and turned it over in her hands.

"What makes you say that?"

She tilted her head vaguely. "Look at all this. This is something we can never compete with."

"Material things," he countered. "I agree, we can't compete in that area, but look how much love we have for him. We'd give him the world if we could. Ad I promise you, I'll never let either of you go without. If there's something you want, it's yours."

Anna rolled her eyes affectionately, but it seemed to have appeased her fears. He was glad about that. The pregnancy had been plagued by nerves and uncertainty at every point, and now that Jack was here with them, he didn't want her to fear or doubt anymore. There had been so many shadowed moments in their past; he wanted their future to be lit brilliant gold with the strength of their joy. Silently, he vowed that neither of them would ever know a moment's sorrow from now on, no matter what it took.

With a groan, he sank onto the edge of the settee that sat in the corner of the room, stretching his bad leg out in front of him. He patted the seat next to him and Anna joined him, settling into the space he'd left for her. He lifted his arm for her to duck underneath, and she snuggled up against him, pressing her cheek firmly against his chest. He turned slightly, breathing in the vanilla scent of her hair and closing his eyes against the sheer power of emotions that welled up inside him. God, he loved her. He loved them both so much.

"What time is it?" he murmured after a few minutes' silence.

Anna shuffled slightly, fishing his pocket watch out of his waistcoat and squinting at the face.

"Twenty to midnight," she murmured.

"Almost there."

"It's been the best year of my life, John. I know it's not always been easy, but ever since we found out about Jack…" She sighed, a sound of sheer contentment.

"I know," he reassured her. And he did.

Time marched forward, ever closer to midnight. Together they sat in silence, keeping their eyes on the bassinet. As the magical hour approached, Jack began to stir once more, his tiny whimper rousing Anna at once. It was not one of the sounds he made before a full on crying session, which often left them trying desperately in any way possible to soothe their boy's troubles (they had discovered that John's deep voice did wonders), but a sound of a different sort. Likely he just wanted a bit of attention. Right on time as well. John checked his pocket watch. Five minutes to midnight.

Anna rose from the settee and crossed the room to the crib. He watched her bend down and retrieve their son from the depths, bringing him to her chest for a cuddle. In the low light her profile was striking. If he were a painter, he would craft the moment so that it could be preserved forever.

She moved, but the magic was not lost. John found himself entranced as she wandered over to the window, peering down at the grandeur below. He pushed himself to his feet. He wanted to be part of the perfect moment with the rest of his family.

Jack cooed up at him as he appeared at Anna's shoulder, gazing down into the cradle of her arms.

"Hello, little chap," he said, reaching over to chuck him under the chin. Jack gurgled and kicked out his legs.

"Don't get him too excited," Anna scolded, but she was beaming.

"I can't help it if the lad has an irrepressible desire to learn about the world, can I? That comes from you, my dear."

He nuzzled against her ear for good measure, knowing that she was irrationally sensitive in any capacity. She played at pulling away for a moment, before he reached around to slide his arm under Jack, helping her to support his weight. He was feeling heavier by the day. Full of life, John liked to say. The Bates build, Anna always countered. He kissed her hair and heard her happy exhale.

Somewhere along the corridor, they heard the faint sound of one of the clocks chiming. It was midnight, and the dawn of a whole new life.

"Happy New Year, Anna," John said softly, tightening his hold on her. She sighed, pressing her back more firmly against his front, as if there was no safer place for her on the earth.

"Happy New year, John," she murmured in return, turning her head slightly to the side. He took the unspoken invitation, dipping his head over her shoulder to capture her mouth in a gentle kiss. She moved against him softly, and he shivered when she hummed in the back of her throat. In her arms, Jack began to fuss. The sound made them break apart, and John peered down to find his little son waving one of his arms around in protest.

Anna giggled, tucking it back down inside the blanket. "I don't think he likes the attention being away from him, Mr. Bates."

"Is that so?" said John, letting go of one of her hips so he could help Anna to cradle the weight in her arms again. "Well, Master Bates, I think we'll have to see about that one. Your Mummy and I need some moments just for the two of us alone, you know. Otherwise how will we get you a little brother or sister to play with?"

"John, really," Anna scolded him, moving to pull Jack's little hat further down over his ears. "Jack doesn't need to hear that sort of talk, thank you very much! Keep your vulgar remarks to yourself."

He chuckled lowly at the sight of her dissatisfied pout, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Sorry, love."

"And so you should be. Honestly, men…"

He tilted her head and captured her mouth once more, effectively stopping her words. She made a little muffled sound of surprise, but melted against him, matching the pace of her mouth to his own.

When they broke apart they whispered promises of a happy new year to their son, who did not yet understand the magnitude of what he had brought them.

And there, in the perfect frame of the window with the moonlight throwing them into silvery relief, they welcomed in a New Year that they would face united. As the Bates tribe. As a family of three.


End file.
